Autumn Sky in the East: Leaning Together
by CheleSedai
Summary: How the Sunnydale survivors survive. Post-"Chosen"
1. On a Clear Night You Can See Forever

Disclaimer: The characters featured here are not mine. The characters of Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris, Rupert Giles, Dawn Summers, Andrew Wells, Robin Wood, Faith, Kennedy, and Chao Ahn are all the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and Fox. The character of Cenzi also is not mine, but is the property of Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tetra Television and ITV. All are used here without permission but this is not for profit.  
  
Book I: Autumn Sky in the East  
  
On the beach, at night Stands a child, with her father, Watching the east, the autumn sky.  
-- "On the Beach at Night" by Walt Whitman  
  
Part I: Leaning Together  
  
We are the hollow men  
  
We are the stuffed men  
  
Leaning together  
  
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!  
-- "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot  
  
Chapter I - On a Clear Night You Can See Forever  
  
There truly was some truth to the sentiment that one could see forever on a clear night. As she leaned on the old wooden railing, cigarette dangling from her fingers and stared out across the New Mexico desert, Cenzi couldn't help but think that whomever first made that statement must have spent the night in the desert. Tilting her head back just a bit, she could see the sky and stars in all their perfect majesty. She hadn't seen this many stars since her days at Ellicott Girls College, and back then she had been just naïve and inexperienced enough to not appreciate the spectacular view.  
  
It just wasn't possible to see this many stars in the city. Even in a city like Sunnydale, which really wasn't a city so much as it was the very fringe of suburbia desperately beating back the tide of urban sprawl. True, Sunnydale had to its name only one Starbucks and one nightclub, but it also had a mall and quaint little downtown and a small airport. It was suburbia and yet not; it was the middle of nowhere and yet not entirely outside of civilization. Sunnydale was, or rather Sunnydale had been, an enigma. These days Sunnydale was just a big crater in the middle of southern California.  
  
She thought that she would feel less numb about it by now. Certainly, once the celebration had worn off, the whole dancing, singing and getting slightly drunk over the defeat of The First Evil and avoiding Apocalypse thing, she expected for reality to set in. It had for some of the other girls; tears were shed, walls were punched and there had been a great many chasings into the countryside or desert as one girl or another ran off in a fright suddenly terrified of whom she was, what she was and what it meant. That had not happened to Cenzi yet. She kept qualifying that realization with the "yet," even though she was beginning to have her doubts that it would ever happen at all. The epic battle of the century, or at least of the year seeing as how according to Dawn these types of things were pretty much standard for them, was two and a half weeks behind them and still no freakage.  
  
No freakage, but nearly a year in Sunnydale and in the company of Buffy and her friends and years of living in England went right out the window as Cenzi took to thinking and speaking in the dialect of her Californian companions.  
  
Cenzi took a drag of her cigarette, holding the smoke in her mouth and savoring the taste of it. Mrs. Merriwick had never allowed her to smoke. If the woman so much as thought that Cenzi even entertained the thought of filling her lungs with "that putrid death delivering tar," Cenzi would find herself in the midst of a long, grueling workout so intense that it left her with barely enough energy to crawl into bed and aching muscles the next morning. That hadn't always been the case though. At first Mrs. Merriwick threatened to tell the Headmistress and Cenzi's parents until she realized that her young charge didn't care either way what the Watcher said to the Headmistress or Cenzi's all too distracted parental units.  
  
The workouts had been a better punishment anyway, Cenzi reflected as she exhaled. If it hadn't been for Mrs. Merriwick's workouts, Cenzi might not have been one of the survivors. She might have been like Amanda or Xander's odd ex-fiancé, a name spoken in respect and reverence as the rag tag group of survivors held a private memorial service.  
  
There it was, a tiny fluttering something in her stomach. Not much, but enough a quiver that told her maybe there really was something to the whole post-traumatic-stress disorder. It just wasn't her time yet to travel down the freakage road. That quiver was enough for now, enough for her to need another puff on the cigarette for the sake of comfort and soothing familiarity.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Cenzi didn't jump like she would have three weeks ago. Even with all of Mrs. Merriwick's drills and teachings, she had never managed to hone in on her special senses, she'd never been able to focus her awareness to avoid surprise. That all changed in one moment, when one woman cast one spell that radiated in every fiber of Cenzi's being and changed everything.  
  
She didn't look back and she didn't try to extinguish or hide the cigarette.  
  
"Hey," Cenzi greeted in return, "Did they send you out to find me?"  
  
"No," Dawn Summers shook her head slightly and joined Cenzi at the railing. "I just needed to get some air. And find someone to talk to other than Andrew."  
  
"What's it this time? X-Men?"  
  
"Daredevil."  
  
Cenzi felt the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile, a feeling of bittersweet nostalgia coming over her. "When he goes on like that he kind of reminds me of my brother."  
  
Dawn frowned, "I'm sorry."  
  
Cenzi shrugged. "I'm not."  
  
By unspoken agreement they let the conversation drop at that moment, both turning their attention to stare out across the darkened and cooling desert. Although they were close in age, Cenzi, like the rest of the Potentials, correction Slayers, hadn't really bonded with Dawn. They had bonded with one another, feeling somehow superior to Buffy's sister and friends because they were special and chosen. Defeating the source of evil and preventing world apocalypse made them realize that maybe they needed to give a little more credit where credit was due.  
  
It was a bitter pill to swallow.  
  
No apologies had been spoken, but it was understood that they had been wrong. Dawn tolerated them all a bit more and they gave her the respect she both earned and deserved.  
  
"You're one of the last ones," Dawn said at last.  
  
The words didn't surprise Cenzi. She had been expecting them, waiting for them really. Of course, she expected them to come from Buffy or Giles or maybe even Faith, but not Dawn.  
  
"Yeah, I guess Vi is on the next bus out in the morning," Cenzi acknowledged the statement without really acknowledging the unasked and unspoken, 'So when are you leaving to go home?'  
  
"It's going to be weird. I've gotten kind of used to you guys."  
  
"Right," Cenzi smoked and rolled her eyes.  
  
"Really. And being at an old ranch in the middle of nowhere it's been kind of nice knowing instead of one or two Slayers, we've got a whole army watching our backs."  
  
"Right," Cenzi said again, this time turning to look squarely at The Slayer's little sister. And yes, in her mind, Buffy was still The Slayer. And Faith was The Slayer. Cenzi was not The Slayer because she was still waiting for the numbness to wear off. "I'm not going anywhere just yet."  
  
"You have to."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because we're going to Cleveland in a few days. Hellmouth remember?" Dawn said the words with an air of superiority, her tone implying that maybe Cenzi had hit her head sometime between fighting Turok-Han vampires and escaping the swallowing of Sunnydale.  
  
"I know. I think that I'm going to come along. Giles said that I could, if I wanted." She added that last as an afterthought, idly wondering why she felt the need to explain herself to Dawn.  
  
That surprised Dawn. "You don't want to go home?"  
  
"Not really." One last drag and Cenzi stared down regretfully at the cigarette. She had half a pack in her jeans pocket, but she didn't dig them out to light another one. Getting this pack had taken some work on her part; Faith had taken some convincing to buy the pack in town, and at first Cenzi had thought the brunette Slayer wouldn't do it.  
  
"You realize this is my ass right?" Faith said to her, as she stood not taking the folded up dollar bills that Cenzi held out to her. "That Giles and B are gonna chew me out if they find out I bought cigarettes for a minor? Not to mention the whole lack of proper of ID thing because you know I'm kind of on the lam?"  
  
The last was only partly true and Cenzi knew it as well as everyone else did. Evidently Faith had a friend in LA who had just taken over a law firm - the details were many, varied and mostly confusing - but the part that wasn't confusing was that this friend was working on erasing that "little" blemish on Faith's record. Or working on erasing her entire record. It all came down to the same thing.  
  
"I won't tell them who purchased them for me," Cenzi promised.  
  
"G and B ain't that stupid, Cenzi," Faith said but she pocketed the money anyway.  
  
That night after most of the entourage bedded down for the night, Faith joined her for a quick smoke before heading back to "check on Robin."  
  
The euphemism was not lost on Cenzi.  
  
"Everybody wants to go home," Dawn's words pulled Cenzi back to the present. "I'd want to go home, you know if my home wasn't all a big pile of dust in the bottom of a crater."  
  
"I don't," Cenzi said simply.  
  
"Why not?" Dawn's eyes widened marginally and her face puckered briefly as though she had licked a lemon as soon as the words were out of her mouth. The change in her features passed quickly though, so quickly that if Cenzi hadn't been looking directly at the other girl, she would have missed it. "I mean, if you want to talk about it or whatever."  
  
Cenzi shrugged and suddenly she recalled all the times that Mrs. Merriwick scolded her for using that as answer to a question.  
  
"You were given a mouth, it would be ever so thoughtful of you to use it when answering my questions. Now, I ask you again . . ."  
  
She really missed Mrs. Merriwick. The woman had been a royal pain in her ass, but she had been closer family than Cenzi's own family was. Mrs. Merriwick had been more than Cenzi's mentor and Watcher; the woman had been her surrogate mother.  
  
"I don't think that my family has even missed me yet, Dawn." Cenzi said after a moment. She thought about ignoring the question, but figured it wouldn't make much difference. Eventually, she would have to talk about it, particularly if she wanted to go on to Cleveland. "Both of my parents travel a lot. And Giles sent a letter of explanation to the Headmistress, who knows what exactly he explained, but if my parents missed me at all my father would have found me by now. He has his sources."  
  
Cenzi wondered how much of that statement was true. Certainly her parents worked more hours than she ever thought possible, but they should have received the letter weeks ago. Of course, there was a good chance that neither of them had been home to receive it, and her brother wouldn't have cared enough about her "flights of fancy" to open an envelope addressed to their parents. If her father had seen the letter, she liked to imagine that he was sick with worry and pooling all his resources to find his daughter; she liked to imagine that maybe just this once she was the center of her parents' worry and energy, and that it was not all focused on her brother.  
  
But then again, in all likelihood her brother might have pulled another one of his amazing, disappearing, or almost getting killed stunts that left their parents suitably distracted.  
  
Because really, if her parents knew she was missing and her father put all his feelers out, shouldn't he have found her by now even in the middle of the New Mexico desert?  
  
"My Dad knows where I am and he isn't exactly beating a path here either," Dawn said. Cenzi knew that it was meant to be comforting and sympathetic, and she appreciated the effort although she felt neither comforted nor understood. After all, Dawn did have Buffy. That had to count for something.  
  
"Yeah." That was all Cenzi said. Thinking about her family, about Mrs. Merriwick, about how Giles ushered her out of England without even a "by your leave" really made her itch for another cigarette.  
  
Silence returned for a spell while Cenzi resisted the urge to light another cigarette.  
  
Then, "Want to go beat Willow and Kennedy at Euchre? I need a partner who can actually play without quoting Justice League."  
  
Cenzi didn't even wait a beat before answering. The stars would be there tomorrow night; she could see if tomorrow night would be the night she hit freakage. "Sure, what else am I going to do?"  
  
Without a look backwards at the encroaching darkness, Millicent Damon the Vampire Slayer followed Dawn back inside.  
  
End of Chapter One 


	2. There's A Whole World Waiting

Book I: Autumn Sky in the East  
  
Part I: Leaning Together  
  
Chapter II - There's a Whole World Waiting  
  
Buffy liked Europe. Never mind the fact that she had never been to Europe, she was fairly sure that once she got there she would like it. She would start by liking Paris and long strolls along the Seine and sitting in little outdoor cafes, and oh yes, wearing those cute little berets. She would wear a green beret; no, not green because she was pretty certain that the words green and beret went together in some organized fighting sense and the whole purpose of liking Europe and being in Europe was to avoid the whole organized fighting deal.  
  
Actually, it was to avoid the fighting deal completely, organized or no. The only thing Buffy imagined fighting in Europe was the bad reputation that American tourists had a "ugly Americans." And how ugly would she possibly be wearing one of those cute little striped shirts and a red beret while she drank coffee in front of the Eiffel Tower? And maybe, if she stretched her imagination just a little there was a painter who wanted to paint her portrait or he wasn't a painter, he was a starving artist who would take her on those long strolls along the Seine.  
  
Could you even stroll on the Seine or was it like those rivers that were all mud and sand that you couldn't get to without getting your feet crusted with dirt? Not that Buffy had an issues with dirt; after spending eight years cleaning out cemeteries, she was familiar with dirt. But this was her fantasy and therefore she didn't want to ruin it by getting her adorable strappy sandals all dirty because she was walking along a mud bank instead of a sidewalk.  
  
Frowning, Buffy flipped the page in the travel catalogue. She knew that she had seen people actually walking, not sloshing, along the Seine. It would truly suck to get to Paris and find a good fantasy had been totally ruined all because she didn't take enough time to study the travel brochures. The same brochures that she had picked up on a whim at the tourist stop outside of Phoenix.  
  
"Now, I have to ask, who thought that travel brochures for Paris and Rome would do any kind of good at a truck stop?" Xander asked, shaking his head as Buffy paused and studied the display.  
  
It was old, some of the brochures curled and faded with time, but it stood proudly beside the brighter, shinier and new display filled to overflowing with maps.  
  
"It's not a truck stop, Xander, it's a rest stop," one of the Slayers whose name she didn't remember, corrected him.  
  
"Yes, and there's such a broad difference," Giles sniffed with disapproval just behind them.  
  
"Rest stop. McDonald's. And donuts," Xander pointed out.  
  
"Of course," Giles remarked with that tone that said Xander really only just proved whatever point it was that the Watcher had been trying to make.  
  
After Xander and the Slayer walked away she had taken one of each brochure of any place that wasn't here. By here she meant anything within close proximity, and simply being on the same continent was far too close of proximity, to the crater formerly known as the Hellmouth.  
  
Giles gave her that soft, sad, fond smile each time he caught her looking at them.  
  
She looked at them pretty often.  
  
The first time had been at the second motel they stopped at, the one that they all felt better about because by that time Giles had allowed them to descend upon a strip mall complete with a Wal-Mart and new clothes, new shoes, shampoo, toothpaste and the odd tube of lipstick went along to way to helping soothe ruffled feathers when people started to remember that everything that they owned or brought with them was at the bottom of that crater that would forever be burned into their minds.  
  
The drinking among the new Slayers started that night. Everyone remained convinced that the beer and the wine had all been courtesy of Faith, but no one begrudged the survivors their fun and frivolity. They earned the downtime. Unfortunately, the drinking led to the crying, and the crying led to fighting, mostly with walls and vending machines. Not fighting so much as freaking as the dust settled and realization dawned of what really happened and what it all really meant. With the adrenaline high gone, the girls crashed back to earth.  
  
Buffy helped in the calming and the soothing, and then in exhaustion retired to her room, shared with Dawn and Willow and Kennedy. There she saw the brochures again, sticking out of the half-zipped pocket of the backpack she picked up at Wal-Mart. That night it was Willow who gave her the soft, sad and fond smile when she what Buffy was reading.  
  
"You can, you know," Willow told her softly, later, giving her a warm hug. Willow who understood what Buffy was thinking without having to ask; the most powerful woman in the world whom had just called Slayers everywhere and still she was just Willow.  
  
"I don't know," Buffy held the brochure for Athens in her hands, not really looking at it, but not really looking at Willow either.  
  
"You've earned it, Buffy."  
  
"Maybe," Buffy agreed with a slight nod. "I'll sleep on it."  
  
"Vacation isn't a bad word, you know that right?"  
  
"I know."  
  
That had been the end of that conversation, and Buffy hadn't pulled out the brochures again until they arrived at the old Watcher safe house outside of Santa Fe. Saying "outside of" was actually being generous because it wasn't at all what anyone had been expecting when Giles said that he'd confirmed the location of the Watcher ranch "just outside of Santa Fe."  
  
Evidently in Watcher speak, "just outside" meant two hours away from civilization. Still it was better than nothing and a step up from the rest stops and motels. Two and a half bathrooms which the girls all saw as the first great luxury even if many of them still had to spread out sleeping bags, and moving around in the wee hours of the morning or night still involved navigating through a sea of slumbering bodies.  
  
They were all more relaxed than they had been in a very long time.  
  
That was when the Slayers started heading home. Giles bought them bus tickets or plane fare depending on how far they had to go and when they wanted to get there. After the spending of several hundred or thousand dollars, it was finally Dawn who asked him where he was getting the cash from. With some reluctance Giles revealed that all the telephone calls he made since leaving Sunnydale was to seize and get proper control over a "sizeable portion" of the Watcher funds and assets.  
  
Rightfully, he should have control and no one argued that. Giles was the one who ran around the globe rescuing the girls before agents of the First could kill them; Giles was the one who stood and fought that epic last battle above the Hellmouth. If anyone deserved control of those funds and assets it was Giles.  
  
That didn't stop them from teasing him, however.  
  
And somehow after one of their trips to drop a few Slayers off at the bus stop, Willow returned with a new laptop.  
  
"Research," Willow explained instantly. "And work. We have Slayers all over the world to track."  
  
"Right Wills," Xander said simply.  
  
No one begrudged Willow the laptop either. She earned it as much as Giles did his control over Watcher funds.  
  
Buffy, for her part in averting the Apocalypse, had her brochures.  
  
"Well, that confirms it," Giles hung up the telephone, the sound of his voice pulling Buffy from her memories and her fantasies. "Just as I thought I remembered, there is a Watcher owned house within walking distance of the Hellmouth in Cleveland. It was once a fraternity house so it will most likely be in some disarray and in need of some repair -"  
  
"That would be where I come in," Xander spoke up. "I may not have depth perception, but I can still supervise a mean crew of construction workers."  
  
"Yes, indeed, we will be hiring a crew for you to work with, Xander," Giles agreed. "The good thing is that it's quite spacious and there will be room for all of us. Comfortably. We'll stick with the plan to leave in three days. Robin, Faith, you may stay here as long as you need."  
  
"You're not coming with us?" Dawn's head snapped towards the former principal and the other Slayer, once Buffy's nemesis and now . just Faith.  
  
"Somebody's gotta get a head start looking for those other Slayers, Dawnie," Faith pointed out with a nonchalant shrug that really didn't fool anyone. Buffy heard the betrayal in Dawn's voice and knew from the way Faith briefly glanced down that the other Slayer heard it as well. And knowing Dawn, it was probably also written all over her face.  
  
Buffy tried to sort through how she felt about that. Dawn had gone from hating Faith to liking her, more than liking her really. Dawn treated Faith like she was a part of them, like she belonged with them now. Really everyone did and it was only Buffy who remained with one foot stuck in the past, remembering being stuck in Faith's body, remembering the sting of being thrown out of her own home. She should move past it, and for the most part she had. But there were moments, like now, when the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head.  
  
"Besides," Faith continued, "Buffy, Kennedy, Chao Ahn, Cenzi are all going and I think that five Slayers on one little hellmouth is kinda overkill."  
  
Chao Ahn, seated across the room diligently working her way through an English textbook she'd purchased in Santa Fe, looked up at the sound of her name. Then, apparently deciding that she really didn't want to expend the effort to try and make sense of the conversation, returned to her studies. Xander remarked once that he thought Chao Ahn understood a lot more than she pretended to for someone who studied English so intently since arriving in the States all those months ago.  
  
Buffy agreed that he was probably right. She always listened at the appropriate times and asked the appropriate questions. But they each had their own coping mechanisms; Chao Ahn used the language barrier and Buffy - well, Buffy had her vacation.  
  
"Three Slayers." Buffy put down the brochure and stood up, wondering why after all her inspirational speeches and all dress downs, she should now feel nervous and shaky talking in front of everyone. These were her friends; for the most part everyone in this room was family.  
  
Her words were greeted with a chorus of confused, "Buffy?"  
  
"I just thought that you know, seeing how we defeated The First and all, and now that you've got an arsenal of Slayer power, Giles, well, I'd just like," Buffy paused and took a breath, sorting through her thoughts. "I've done this for eight years, Giles. I think I've earned a vacation."  
  
For a long moment, or at least it seemed like an excruciating long moment during which Buffy wondered if she had actually spoken or if the little speech was all in her imagination. She didn't think that she was given to moments of lunacy and delusion, but who could tell what the long-term effects of Willow's spell would be? Buffy braced herself, ready to repeat her request when the questions, objections and agreements spilled over all at once.  
  
"So, you're really going to go, Buffy? That's great!"  
  
"Why don't we go to Europe, honey? That could be fun."  
  
"Were you going to mention this to me? Or are you going to just dump me on Giles?"  
  
"Buffy, why haven't you ever mentioned this before now?"  
  
"Way to go, B. Kick back, take it easy. Wish I'd thought of it."  
  
"And if you thought of it who would help me track down other Slayers?"  
  
"I don't want to go to Cleveland with Giles. That would be so unfair and selfish if you run off and leave me here."  
  
"So glad to know that my company is appreciated."  
  
"Chill, Wood, I'm still going on a Slayer hunt. I just said that I wished I thought of it first."  
  
"You know what I meant, Giles."  
  
"I think that Buff is right. She deserves a break."  
  
"Only not at McDonald's."  
  
"It would be so cool. Slayer in Europe. It would be like when Luke walked into Mos Eisley and -"  
  
"I second the idea. Mostly because I didn't really get to see much of Europe while I was there because I wasn't really on a tour. It was more of - rehab."  
  
"I went on this grand European tour for my Sweet Sixteen -"  
  
"You went to Europe for your Sweet Sixteen? Hello! Sixteen here - almost sort of anyway."  
  
"Everyone please! I can't even hear myself think!" Giles's voice finally rose over the din. "Personal thoughts and popular opinion aside, I think that we need to listen to what Buffy has to say."  
  
Buffy looked around, aware now that all eyes were on her and she wondered why it would be now, after everything was said and done that she would feel oddly self-conscious being the center of attention. "I've said it. I want a vacation. I want time off. It's like Faith said, we don't need five Slayers guarding one hellmouth.  
  
"Giles," Buffy looked to her Watcher, knowing that she would perhaps sound like she was pleading, but unable to help it. "I'm not saying that I won't be a Slayer. Or that I won't go to Cleveland eventually. But here and now, I want some time off."  
  
Giles studied her for a long moment before pulling off his glasses and beginning to polish them. Buffy resisted the urge to sigh, resisted the urge to shake him by the shoulders and stop him from dismissing her request so easily and forced herself to wait patiently and at least pretend to listen to his objections.  
  
"Eight years is quite a long tenure as a Slayer, Buffy, that's true. And seven being spent on the hellmouth was quite trying for all of us. All that being said, I don't see why you can't take a few months for a holiday."  
  
"But Giles see, the thing is -" Buffy stopped in mid-sentence, actually hearing the words that Giles spoke and not the ones she imagined him speaking. "What did you say?"  
  
"I said that you've earned a vacation. And you have, Buffy. As a matter of fact we all have." Giles replaced his glasses and looked around the room. "I've been so wrapped up in getting in contact with other surviving Watchers, and with being a Watcher that I seem to have forgotten that while the war is not over, we certainly won the battle. I think that perhaps we could all use a break."  
  
"I can go to Europe? I mean because I'm kind of with the broke and all and you've been supporting us with the Watcher money and stuff. And I figure that you with the Watcher money could support the charitable cause of -"  
  
"I will send you to Europe, Buffy. And you as well, Dawn."  
  
"Really?" Dawn practically squealed the words, and without waiting for an answer, ran forward and flung her arms around the stunned and baffled Watcher. Giles had barely a moment to catch his breath and awkwardly return the unexpected hug before the girl was off again, this time launching herself at Buffy. "Did you hear that Buffy? We're both going to Europe because you are so not leaving me behind."  
  
"I wouldn't," Buffy promised giving her younger sister a tight hug. "There's still a whole world out there that I have to show you."  
  
And now, Buffy realized with a smile as she listened to the excited chatter around her, she would finally really get to keep that promise to Dawn.  
  
It really was the beginning of everything else.  
  
End of Chapter II 


	3. A Zeppo By Any Other Name

Book I: Autumn Sky in the East  
  
Part I: Leaning Together  
  
Chapter III: A Zeppo by Any Other Name  
  
One small step for man, one giant leap for -  
  
Xander stopped in mid-thought, frowning as he flexed his hand around the car keys. He couldn't exactly finish the thought as it stood because what he was doing and where he was going wasn't precisely a giant leap for mankind. Or, in deference to the Buffster and all the Slayers around the world, womankind either.  
  
Actually, when Xander stopped to think about it, it was really more like a step backwards. Seven years long years living on a hell mouth, fighting demons, going for donuts, dating demons and making bad jokes and one would think that he would finally be tired of it all. And quite frankly there was no reason why he shouldn't be; no sane person could not get tired of it. Vampires and demons, apocalypses - or was that apocalypi? - and prophecies, it wore down even the most stalwart of heroes, hence the reason that Buffy was officially on vacation.  
  
Then there was Xander. He really could have gone to Europe with them; there was an open invitation. Buffy and Willow were surprised that he didn't want to go, and Xander found it oddly funny that Giles wasn't the least bit surprised at all.  
  
"You're going to come with us, right, Xan?" Willow stopped him in the hallway one morning after the rapid fire booking of plane fares, hotel reservations and passport applications began.  
  
Willow, sleep tussled, stood barefoot in the doorway of the bedroom she shared with Kennedy, her eyes alight with the excitement of going back to Europe for something more than her re-education by a coven of witches. "Because you do need a passport."  
  
"I'll get one," Xander told her, wondering why he bothered to lie to her when he knew he had no plans of getting a passport at all. He wasn't going off to see the world, not yet. It wasn't time for the Zeppo to retire. As a matter of fact, the Zeppo was just getting started.  
  
"You should do it soon, if you want to get your application approved in time to leave with us," Willow reminded him gently. Xander decided that maybe his best friend from childhood wasn't sleep tussled after all, but rumpled in other ways as Kennedy slipped up behind her, and kissed her on the cheek.  
  
Xander gave the lovers a smile and they smiled back, probably assuming that he was making note of Willow's timely reminder, but really it was only because his mind flashed on one of those rare naughty moments thoughts that he permitted himself to entertain when he was certain that Willow wouldn't have any idea that he was doing such. For some reason, she didn't seem very amused that he allowed himself to indulge in fantasies regarding her sex life no matter how much he patiently pointed out to her that it was his right as a red-blooded heterosexual male and her fault for being a hot lesbian.  
  
At least the last part usually got one of those patented Willow-esque eye rolls and bemused smiles because she was oh so "gay now" and they were way past the days when that would have made either of them uncomfortable.  
  
"I will," Xander repeated and waited for the guilt from the lie to jump up and bite him on the ass, but it did no such thing so he assumed that he was off the hook. Quite possibly the universe afforded him some karmic points for losing an eye to a homicidal priest and deciding that there would be no happy Harris romping with French and Italian beauties in Europe.  
  
"I really think we need to start considering code names. Code names will be important to our operation." Xander looked down at the car keys in his hand, the approach of voices rising and falling in disagreement bringing him back to the present. Back to the desert, back to the driveway, if that's what one wanted to call it, in front of the Watcher Ranch, back to the future.  
  
Which really was a good movie all by itself and he still wondered to this day why anyone felt the need to make one mediocre sequel and one so bad that the film it was printed on should have been burnt.  
  
"Andrew, for the last time. We. Are. Not. Having. Code. Names. And this isn't an operation!"  
  
The sunlight glinted off the car keys, the car courtesy of Giles and the new and improved Council of Watchers that Giles was the mastermind behind, and would be spearheading the organization of in London. The Zeppo was not quite so much zeppo anymore, Xander thought to himself as his eye traced the Lexus emblem on the key ring because Zeppos did not drive cars this nice.  
  
"But - but - we have walkie-talkies! We need code names for -"  
  
"I am not riding in the backseat with him." The sunlight reflected from the car keys bounced onto Cenzi's red hair, the Slayer making her declaration as she swung her bag into the hatch of the Lexus SUV. "And tell him that we don't need code names!"  
  
"We don't need code names," Xander said automatically. He leaned forward and adjusted Cenzi's bag so that there would be room for Chao Ahn's, and of course Andrew's comic book collection. Xander still wondered how Andrew managed to amass so many comic books in such short a time span. He didn't wonder why Giles allowed Andrew to do so, however.  
  
"He gets comic books?" Dawn sulked. "All I want is a DVD player. One DVD player."  
  
"And then you'll want one DVD. We're trying to use the funds for necessities, Dawn," Giles didn't even bother to look up from the notes he was reading.  
  
"And how are comic books necessary?" Dawn demanded, reminding them all that for all of her experiences and everything she had gone through she truly was all of sixteen years old.  
  
"They keep him out of my hair."  
  
Explanation enough; it hadn't been one that Dawn could find an argument for. Besides which, Giles soon discovered that a DVD player and a selection of twenty odd DVD's from the local Megastore kept Dawn out of his hair.  
  
Of course, a Lexus SUV didn't really count as a necessity either.  
  
"I do not want a code name too," Chao Ahn declared. Her bag, small and simple, barely more than a duffle bag, fit in nicely between the two of Cenzi's. Xander had to admit that the Asian Slayer traveled light for a girl. Not that it mattered much when Cenzi and Andrew made up for Chao Ahn's moderation tenfold.  
  
Cenzi pushed blazing embers of red away from her face, the pixie face with a smattering of freckles some how looking severe as her ice blue eyes rested on Andrew. The tone of her voice was all Slayer and left no doubt in anyone's mind that there was no room for argument. "It's unanimous. No code names."  
  
Andrew sulked. This was something that Xander noted that Andrew did far better than any girl he had ever known. Andrew could even beat Dawn hands down in a sulk contest. He kicked at the dirt, comic books clutched to his chest, his voice a low murmur that probably only Xander heard. "It was just a suggestion."  
  
"Is that all of it?" Xander ignored Andrew and directed the question to Cenzi. He could have easily asked the same of Chao Ahn. Since The Decision had been made, and that was with a capital T and Capital D, she had given up the ruse of pretending she spoke and understood less English than she actually did. But Cenzi had declared herself Slayer-In-Charge and as long as Andrew and Chao Ahn didn't challenge her on it, Xander didn't plan to either. "I want to get on the road and make the most of all the daylight time we have."  
  
Yes, he was traveling with two Slayers, but that didn't mean that Xander wanted to tempt fate.  
  
Even if tempting fate was exactly what he had done at least once a week for the past seven years with occassional summers and Christmas holidays off for good behavior. He wondered why that was, why the demonic activity slowed down during the summers and around holidays. It seemed too good to be true and nothing in all of Giles's books really offered any explanation. Anya once pointed out that demons had holidays and traditions of their own and it was foolish of humans to assume that they're frivolous celebrations were the only ones. Anya often had insights like that when one least expected them.  
  
He wasn't supposed to be thinking about Anya. Because when he thought about Anya, thousands of feelings welled up inside of him. There was the guilt, the anger, the emptiness and the remorse, the longing and the needing and the forever thoughts of what could have been. The haunting thoughts of what should have been and now never would be.  
  
Xander told himself almost daily that he would not think of Anya because that way lay sadness and despair and he just wasn't ready to deal with that yet. Maybe if he avoided thinking about her, she wouldn't really be dead and he would just wake up one day to find out that it had all been a bad dream. He would just wake up one morning with her in bed beside him, and she would be babbling about the wedding and hey, as long as he was dreaming, he would have two working eyes as well.  
  
It took him a week to cry. A week to cry because at first he hadn't felt anything but numb. It was too soon and too much to process at that time. Besides, there was the wounded to deal with, even with Slayer healing those girls needed rest and to have their wounds attended to. On top of that there was the chaos of the moment - the exhiliration of success mingled with the agony of loss and grief.  
  
"It's all right to miss her." Willow came to his room that first night that they settled into the Watcher Ranch. She just pushed open the door after giving a soft knock, and climbed onto the foot of his bed, folding her legs just like she used to do when they were kids. Only they weren't kids and this wasn't his Superfriends decorated room, which happened to be the only decorations he ever got in his room because shortly after the happy days of  
  
painting and wall decals the drinking and the shouting started.  
  
Willow didn't ask him what was wrong. She was Willow and he was Xander and she really didn't have to. Then again, no one had to. Everyone knew what was wrong. And after the way he bit off Andrew's head for trying to apologize for suriviving when Anya had died, everyone knew better than to say anything to Xander about what was wrong. Willow had watched him with those sad green eyes, practically begging him to talk to her, but keeping her distance.  
  
Xander wasn't surprised that she finally cornered him in her own Willow way. It didn't stop him from staring up at the ceiling in the dark. It didn't even cause him to sit up and look at her. The ceiling actually had a pattern on it. Either that, or blood. This was a Watcher safehouse, or whatever, after all.  
  
"I haven't really had time to get used to the whole Sunnydale-Go-Boom thing to miss anyone yet, Wills."  
  
"She stood by us until the end. She fought beside us. She didn't have to. That meant something."  
  
"Willow. Don't."  
  
"You didn't say anything at the memorial." That would be the impromptu memorial service they had for the lost and fallen upon leaving the last motel. After much discussion and decisions regarding the need for closure, the rag tag group found a church and held their own special service.  
  
Xander stood in the shadows and watched the candles burn.  
  
"There was nothing to say."  
  
"When I lost Tara, it killed me inside," Willow spoke softly and even though he could not see her face, in his mind's eye, Xander could see her face and he knew that she would look drawn and sad, her eyes vacant as they turned inward. She may have moved forward with Kennedy, but it was no secret among the Scoobies that the spectre of Tara would always be there. "You know how I handled it, what I did, you were there Xander. I thought that I could never go on, so it didn't matter anymore how dark the magick was or how much I used or how I used it. When it was all said and done, I wouldn't have Tara so nothing else in the world mattered.  
  
"I never thought that it was possible to love someone that much, so much so that your entire being is ripped apart from the inside out when you lose them. And if someone had told me that it was possible to come back from that, to move on, I don't think that I would have believed them.  
  
"But it happened, Xander. It happened to me."  
  
Xander sat up and glared at her, although he was reasonably sure that it wasn't much of a glare in the dark. "I don't want to get over Anya. I don't want to move on!"  
  
Willow shook her head, he could see the shadow of her hair sway from side to side. When she gripped his hands, her grasp was strong, tight and firm. "I'm not telling you to move on and get over her, Xander. I'm just asking you to admit that she's gone and start grieving."  
  
What Xander wanted to do was yell at her. He wanted to rail about the unfairness of the world and the unjustice of a world that would take someone like Anya, who gave up being a demon willingly and stood by them, who even helped and stood by them when she was a demon. He wanted to scream at Willow of how much she thought she understood but really didn't understand at all.  
  
He did none of those things, however. Instead, he just sat there, holding onto Willow's hands, feeling the first of tears swell in his eye and then roll hot and sticky down his cheek. "I don't want her to be gone."  
  
"I know you don't, sweetie."  
  
He cried that night while Willow held him.  
  
"Are you sure you want to do this, Xander? There's still time to change your mind." Willow peeked around the corner of the SUV, shielding her eyes from the sunlight by hodling her hand to her brow.  
  
"Yeah, you could meet us in a few weeks, in Paris or something," Dawn chirped up, appearing at Willow's shoulder. "We would wait for you. It'd be cool. You could meet us under the Eiffel Tower."  
  
"As thrilling as that sounds, my decision is made. My path is set." Xander stretched his arm outward, sweeping towards the desert for emphasis. "Besides, I'd just end up attracting French demon chicks or something."  
  
Dawn giggled, and Willow gave him a smile that said that while the joke wasn't lost on her, it didn't exactly go over as planned. Especially when he didn't call up any pictures of demon chicks when saying it; instead it was that shade of Anya, the one telling him that he was being "ridiculously foolish" and that there was no reason he shouldn't be "living it up all frivolous like Buffy" and "even Willow gets to have fun and she was all evil."  
  
From the way Willow looked at him and the glance she exchanged with Buffy, he got the feeling that they knew all about the shade that Xander had conjured up even if it was all in his head.  
  
"You have Giles's contact information right?" Buffy asked, all Slayery and businesslike. "And if you need anything at all -"  
  
Xander jiggled the cellphone on his belt. "Giles is on speed dial. As are you, and Wills. And even Robin." Faith, naturally had refused to carry a cellphone. It was amazing that she actually agreed to the pager. Of course the fact that Andrew suggested surgically attaching the pager to her physical body and that it looked for a moment like Giles and Robin were both considering it, probably had a great deal to do with her acquiesance.  
  
"I still can't believe that you're going to be like a Watcher," Willow smiled.  
  
"I still can't believe that all of you would rather go to Cleveland than Europe," Dawn said.  
  
Xander put on his best goofy grin. "It's a dirty job, but somebody has to do it."  
  
"But why does that someone have to be you, Giles?" Buffy demanded at dinner two nights ago. "I think that if anyone else around here deserves a vacation, it's you. The Cleveland hellmouth has taken care of itself for this long, what's another few months?"  
  
"Another few months are quite a lot, Buffy. The Watcher guarding that hellmouth and her charge," Giles stopped, his eyes momentarily flickering to Kennedy, Cenzi, and Chao Ahn in silent explication of what had become of the Cleveland Hellmouth Watcher and Slayer In Training. "It's been a few months too long already. We all know what happened when you - when the demons found out that the only Slayer on the Sunnydale Hellmouth was actually a robot.  
  
"As much as I would love to take a vacation, I simply can not do it at this time. The hellmouth needs someone to protect it. We won the battle, Buffy. Not the war."  
  
"Like Helm's Deep," Andrew nodded sagely, his voice taking on that peculiar awe-struck tone that it did when he was about to plunge into one of his many comparisons of their fight against evil and Star Wars, or Lord of the Rings, or whatever his particular fancy was that day.  
  
Personally Xander preferred the Lord of the Rings comparisons. Lord of the Rings always sounded and felt so much nobler than Star Wars. And besides, in Xander's estimation, the whiney little brat that was Anakin Skywalker got what he deserved and then some.  
  
"And there is absolutely no way that I will be going to Cleveland alone," Cenzi talked over Andrew, pointedly rolling her eyes at his reference to Tolkien, a faint hint of an accent of some sort slipping into her voice. "Slayers need Watchers. Chao Ahn and I still have a lot to learn and a lot of training to do."  
  
"It's not that I don't want to travel Europe," Giles said softly, "It's simply that I can't."  
  
Xander took his cue. He had lots of time to think about things, and he thought it through. He wasn't ready for Europe. He didn't need a vacation; if only for the sake of Anya and her memory, he needed to keep on fighting for just a little while longer anyway.  
  
"Why not?" Xander took a sip from his glass and put it down, feeling every set of eyes in the dining room focused on him.  
  
"Have you been listening at all, Xander?"  
  
"Yes, I have. And I think that you should go to Europe, or at least back to England for a little while, Giles." He took a deep breath and raised his head, meeting Giles' intent and concerned look. "I'll go to Cleveland. That place needs someone to oversee the contract work anyway, right?"  
  
Buffy blinked at him. "Xander are you concussed?"  
  
"No, Buff, I'm not." Xander managed to smile at her words. "I've been thinking about this, and I know that it's what I want to do. It's what I should do. So, I'm going to do it. And I know what you're going to say, Buff but don't bother because you can't talk me out of this.  
  
"I know that I'm not book trained and with all the research like Giles, and I'm definitely not all with the Wicca like Willow, and yeah, the whole Cyclops thing is kind of a hassle, but it's not like I don't know what I'm getting into. I've been there with you for years, Buffy, since day one. And yeah, I took some knocks to the head, almost got myself skewered a time or a hundred, but I know what I'm doing. I can handle this. It's my call and this is what I want to do with my life."  
  
Pausing, Xander looked at Cenzi and Chao Ahn because ultimately it was more their decision than it was his. "I'm not Giles and I'm not trained, but I think that I know a thing or two about vampires and evil. I'm ready to go to Cleveland, if you'll have me."  
  
"Learning curve," Cenzi shrugged. "Whatever."  
  
Chao Ahn simply smiled.  
  
They weren't exactly endorsements, but it was good enough for Xander. More importantly, it was good enough for Giles.  
  
"Yeah, well try not to forget that you're only human," Buffy reminded him with a warm hug.  
  
Dawn's laughter rang out as she threw herself at Xander and her sister. "Group hug!"  
  
When the hugs and best wishes were done, and Andrew and Cenzi began arguing over which CD's would go into the CD player for the first leg of the drive, Giles clapped him warmly on the shoulder. "Thank you for taking him along with you Xander."  
  
"Tell me again why I'm doing it?"  
  
"Because Andrew is redeemable. And he has a lot to learn, and I think that you'll do just fine as a teacher." The smile on Giles' face was warm and paternal and sparked a feeling inside of Xander that his own father never had - the feeling of pride. "Take care of them, Xander. They're your charges now."  
  
"No pressure, eh, G-man?"  
  
"Don't call me that." The voice was firm and tight, but the eyes and the smile were amused and kind.  
  
Xander grinned and turned away before the moment got too much to bear and he did something incredibly embarrassing - like actually hugging Giles for believing in him. He'd thank Giles for that belief someday; someday he'd thank Giles for being a better father to him than his father had been. But that day wasn't today, because he wasn't quite so strong enough and so brave enough that he could bear breaking down and acting like a girly man just yet.  
  
"Come on, let's move out. Daylight's a-wasting," Xander called as he headed towards the SUV. "And I get to pick the CD's."  
  
He gave a last glance back at the ones left behind - his friends, his family - before climbing behind the wheel. And then with a final wave, and Andrew and Cenzi separated by the front and back seat, he pulled away from the ranch.  
  
Xander didn't look back. He didn't have to. He knew where he was going, but he also knew that behind him were the people that made up home. And he would always be able to find his way back.  
  
End of Chapter Three  
  
End of Part I: Leaning Together 


End file.
